Never Dying
by Gilles Estram
Summary: On Boxing Day 2009, the end of Time itself was prevented by the Doctor and his unlikely ally, the Master. This story follows up on the Master's fate following the event.
1. Beyond the Gate

_Chapter 1_

**Beyond the Gate**

"You'll die with me, Doctor!" said a fuming Rassilon, his gauntlet glowing.

"I know," replied the Doctor, accepting his fate. He knew he would die that day. It was pointless to resist. It was impossible to resist.

In all of Gallifreyan history, no figure was more feared than the first Time Lord Rassilon, whose fury was mightier than supernovae. But there was one man in that room who was not afraid and whose anger rivalled that of the billion-year-old Lord President.

"Get out of the way," instructed the Master.

The Doctor turned around, surprised. The Master's eyes were fixed on Rassilon, his hands rubbing together. He was ready to unleash his wrath. And the moment the Doctor stepped aside, he shot a powerful burst of artron energy at the old man who was responsible for his insanity.

"You did this to me!" he roared. "All of my life!"

Another burst of artron energy. He was burning up his own life force, but he did not care. This man, this selfish creature, had ruined his whole life. He could remember the day he had gone mad. He had been eight years old and staring into the Untempered Schism. He had heard it then for the first time: the drumbeat, the never-ending drumbeat that haunted him for more than a thousand years. He would make the old man pay. He would kill Rassilon even if it meant sacrificing his own life.

"You made me!" he shouted. His body was dying. He wondered if it would still be there, the drumbeat, if he would still hear it when his body died, because at that moment, it was louder than ever before.

"One," he counted the beat, shooting yet another burst of artron energy, "two", and another, "three," and yet another. Rassilon was on his knees, clinging desperately to his staff.

"Four!" screamed the Master, focusing all his power on the Lord President, his life force draining away rapidly. He would have his revenge. He would have closure. Perhaps then, he could have peace.

There was a blinding flash of white light. The Master's eyes squeezed shut in pain. When he opened them, Rassilon was not there anymore, nor the other Time Lords. Not even the Doctor. In fact, nothing was there. It was all an empty whiteness. And then he saw it: a blurry shadow approaching from afar.

"This is a momentous event," announced the voice of the shadow. "I get to meet the Champion of Death just before he dies."

"Why have you brought me here?" asked the Master, annoyed. "Where-?"

"We don't have much time," the shadow cut him off. "You are about to die, but I can save you."

"I don't need saving," the Master growled bitterly. "My life, everything I've done, it was all because of the noise in my head. I'm tired. I want it to stop."

The shadow was closer now. The Master could see it was someone in a black hooded cloak. He could not help bursting out laughing. The artron energy surged again and he could feel his life force dissipating.

"Is this a joke?" he croaked. "Who do you think you are? The Grim Reaper?"

"You don't know me yet," said the figure, now raising its hood to reveal a sharp-toothed mouth on an otherwise-featureless face, "but I know you, Master, and allowing yourself to die is the one thing you could never do."

It extended a gloved hand. "I can save you," it repeated. "All you have to do is give me your agreement. Do I have your agreement?"


	2. My Angel Put the Devil in Me

_Chapter 2_

**My Angel Put the Devil in Me**

Alonso Frame removed his peaked cap and sat staring at his drink. He liked the Zaggit Zagoo Bar. Their sundowner always had the right amount of rum and they played songs from Earth, his favourite. For a level 5 planet, Earth certainly had surprisingly advanced music.

_My bad, bad Angel put the Devil in me._

"So, Alonso," said the man next to him, "goin' my way?"

_You lured me in with your cold grey eyes._

Alonso turned, his brow frowning inquisitively. "How do you know my name?" he asked. He began checking the man out, subtly.

"I'm kinda psychic," the man chuckled and flashed his perfect teeth.

_Your simple smile and your bewitching lies._

"Really?" asked Alonso, unsure whether this charming man was being truthful or had a most elaborate pick-up routine. Either way, he found himself captivated.

"Yeah," the man nodded, still grinning.

_You put the Devil in me…_

Within a few seconds, Alonso had decided. He liked this man. "Know what I'm thinking right now?" he asked, playing along.

"Oh yeah," the man replied, laughed and downed his brandy.

Alonso smiled and finished his sundowner, too. "By the way," he said, "I'm not psychic."

"Captain Jack Harkness," the man introduced himself, extending his hand.

Alonso shook it. "Pleased to meet y-" Before he could realise what was going on, Jack had pulled him into a passionate kiss. Things were moving faster than he had expected, but he did not mind. Jack was a good kisser. Alonso closed his eyes and let himself melt into the embrace.

_You put the Devil in me…_

Suddenly, Jack broke the kiss. "Look out!" he shouted and pushed Alonso off the bar stool. The scene that followed was chaotic. There was a loud gunshot and all the patrons of the bar were running frantically to the exit. By the time Alonso got back on his feet, Jack had disappeared. He gazed around, confused. The song was still playing, now sounding clearer due to the absence of chatter from the patrons. The whole bar was deserted but for the bartender. Alonso stared at him questioningly.

"That's it," announced the bartender, "I'm never letting a Graske in this place again! Ever!"

_My bad, bad Angel, you put the Devil in me._


	3. Everything Changes

_Chapter 3_

**Everything Changes**

"The time is 20:35. This is Dr Eve Hoffman. Autopsy on unknown male Caucasian to determine cause of death. Autopsy begins."

Eve picked up the scalpel from the tray. She stared at the body on the dissection table. The man looked outrageously intact, given the various witness accounts of his falling off the thousand-feet-tall Stratosphere Tower. There was no sign of injury of any kind. She would have said that he was in perfect health had he not been lying there in the autopsy room, clearly dead. Her hand wavered over his flawless skin, somehow unwilling to make an incision. She put the scalpel down, closed her eyes and took a deep breath to clear her thoughts.

"Get a hold of yourself, Eve," she muttered to herself.

Suddenly, the man sat up and took a great gasp of air. Eve let out a scream, but the man forcefully put his hand over her mouth, stifling it.

"Don't be scared," he said quickly, "don't be scared. I'm not dead. I'm totally alive. See? Now, I'm going to remove my hand, but you've gotta promise not to scream, okay?"

Eve nodded slowly, her eyes unblinkingly fixed on the man, who withdrew his hand and smiled.

"Who are you?" she asked, still staring at him with wide-open eyes.

"Captain Jack Harkness," he announced, "and who are you?"

"Eve," she said tentatively, "my name's Eve, uhm- Dr Eve Hoffman."

"Pleased to meet you, Dr Eve Hoffman," Jack grinned. "Could you remind me where I am?"

"This is the Valley Hospital," Eve answered, "you're- no, wait, they said you fell off the Stratosphere Tower. How can you be alive?"

"I'm in Las Vegas?" asked Jack, surprised.

"Uhm, you fell off a thousand-feet-tall building?" stressed Eve.

"Yes, yes," Jack dismissed her, "but how did I get here? I wasn't even on Earth. Last thing I remember- wait, something's not right. Oh, that's it!"

Jack reached up and turned off the microphone dangling over his head.

"Sorry, Eve," he flashed his grin again. "I don't like to be recorded. Well, not when I'm talking anyway. So where was I? I was- oh, Zaggit Zagoo!"

"You're making no sense at all," Eve shook her head. Her brother had told her that Las Vegas was full of weirdos, but this man was beyond weird. He was impossible. And impossibly attractive, she added.

"I met someone," he rambled on, "Alonso! That's his name! My, he was hot! But then, the Graske-"

"You fell off a building!" Eve reminded him loudly.

Jack turned to face her. He let his reassuring eyes do their work. "Eve," he said softly, "this is very important. I need to remember."

She nodded. There was a strange naked man in front of her. He had just come back to life after falling off a tower less than half an hour earlier. He was saying words she could not understand. He had introduced himself as Captain Jack Harkness, which was almost certainly a fake name. And yet for some ineffable reason, she felt she could trust him. "Okay," she breathed, "please go on, Jack."

"The Graske," Jack continued, "had some sort of cable gun. It teleported me. Then I slipped and fell off the Stratosphere Tower. You say this is a hospital?"

"Yes, the Valley Hospital," replied Eve, at the same time trying to reassure herself of her own location. This had all seemed like a very odd dream.

"Then why," Jack asked, "is someone playing loud music?"

"What music?"

"Can't you hear it? It's giving me a headache. It's like really loud drumming."

"Maybe you oughta lie down," Eve said, coming to his side, her doctor instincts kicking back in.

"I'm fine," Jack waved her away, "I just need to- Ah!"

Jack's hands held onto his head as he rolled off the dissection table onto the floor. He was writhing in pain.

"Jack? What's wrong?" Eve asked, concerned. As she stood there helpless, she remembered they were in a hospital. "I need two nurses in the autopsy room. Now!" she said into the intercom.

Jack abruptly stopped.

"Jack, are you okay?" she approached him hesitantly. "Jack? Captain?"

Propping himself up with his hands, he slowly stood and turned to face her.

"My name," he smirked, "is the Master."


	4. Dead Man Walking

_Chapter 4_

**Dead Man Walking**

Dr Eve Hoffman lay on the cold tiled floor, a scalpel stuck deep into her heart and spurts of blood seeping into her scrubs. Her dying eyes stared reproachfully at the sneering face of Captain Jack Harkness.

"Why?" she mouthed with her last breath.

"These new arms," the Master mused, "I like them. Strong. And merciless."

Contemptuously, he stepped over the body of the woman he had murdered, not sparing her a second glance. As he walked unhurriedly towards the door, a throaty laugh escaped his mouth. He paused in his tracks.

"Oh," he frowned, "don't like the laugh. Definitely don't like the laugh. I'm never laughing in this body again!"

_You didn't have to kill her,_ said a loud voice in his head.

"Handsome Jack," sighed the Master. "You're still in my new body, I see."

He continued to walk through the autopsy room door into the morgue, unimpeded by the freezing air dancing on his naked flesh.

_How have you done this?_ Jack asked. _You were killed on the Valiant._

"So were you, Jack," the Master quipped, "many times. And yet here you are. My methods of survival may be quite unnatural in some people's eyes, but you are the true freak."

As he exited the morgue, he turned left down an empty corridor and continued walking at a leisurely pace towards the car park.

_Thanks a lot,_ came Jack's bitter voice. _What are you trying to do exactly?_

"Oh," taunted the Master, "why don't we stop and have a nice little chat where I tell you all my plans and you can work out a way to stop me? I don't think!"

_I'm inside your head, no, my head!_ Jack reminded him. _You can't hide your plans from me forever. I can hear your thoughts. And I can hear the drumming, too._

"Not for much longer," the Master declared conclusively, pushing open the double doors and emerging into the chilly Vegas night. He could hear the sirens of police cars reverberating from the other side of the hospital.

"Seems those nurses have found the body," he smiled. "You think I didn't have to kill her, Jack? You're wrong. I did have to. It's all part of the plan."

_Does this plan of yours somehow involve me being naked?_ Jack asked mockingly.

"No," the Master chuckled, approaching a man he could see in the distance, "which is why I'll have to kill him, too."


	5. What Happened in Vegas

_Chapter 5_

**What Happened in Vegas**

A red Ferrari 360 Modena sped along Bonanza Road. Its driver was merrily humming the tune of the Rogue Traders' _Voodoo Child_. In the back seat lay the recently deceased body of his fifteenth and latest victim that night, the previous owner of the car.

"Lovely song," the Master remarked, "too bad it hasn't been written yet."

_Is this your plan, then,_ Jack said testily, _stealing cars and killing random people around the city? What does that achieve?_

"I'm beginning to get sick of you, Jack," the Master groaned. "The drumming I can stand, but a voice of conscience? Please, what a fun sponge!"

_Then get out of my body!_ Jack demanded.

"I can't," the Master explained, "not yet anyway. I used up all my remaining energy for the meta-crisis. I have no physical existence beyond this body."

_But why my body?_ asked Jack. _From what I understand, Time Lords are kinda averse to me. The Doctor said he could barely look at me._

"Human bodies can't withstand a Time Lord mind," replied the Master, "they aren't sustainable. They die within days. But you, you're a fixed point in time and space. I can live in here indefinitely. Not that I'm planning to, 'cause you're wrong."

_So you're gonna leave at some point,_ Jack's tone was hopeful. _How would you manage that?_

"That's easy," the Master sniggered. "After I've done this favour for a friend, all I'll need is a psychograft and the Doctor's body."

_Don't you dare!_ Jack hissed, his voice echoing in the recesses of the Master's mind. _If you try to harm him, I will kill you._

"Oh, how to shut him up!" exclaimed the Master. "I know. Memory lane! The Time Agency, remember them?"

_What about them?_ Jack grumbled. _I quit. Long time ago._

"Yes, yes, yes, but why," rushed the Master, "why did you quit?"

_They stole two years of my memories,_ Jack grudgingly recalled, _two years of my life._

"Well," the Master smiled, "you're about to get those two years back."

_What do you mean?_ Jack asked, alarmed. _How? Tell me what you mean!_

"Ooh," the Master buzzed with excitement, "you're gonna love this!"

_Answer me!_ Jack roared in his head, loud enough to drown out the sound of drums. _What are you doing?_

The Ferrari took a right turn and accelerated down North Street. The Master leisurely opened the glove box to retrieve a fully-loaded Glock 26.

"Captain Jack Harkness," he solemnly announced, "the year is 2001. The city is Las Vegas. Prepare to meet yourself!"


	6. The Importance of Being Jack Harkness

_Chapter 6_

**The Importance of Being Jack Harkness**

The Master was hiding in the shadows in the reception hall of the Metro police downtown bureau. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, calming himself down after the exhilarating killing spree. His plan was about to come to fruition. He reached into his jacket pocket and fondled the Glock 26. He would need to use it soon.

_Whatever you're planning to do,_ Jack was still yelling in his head, _think of the consequences! Crossing my timeline can rip a whole in all causality._

"One, two, three, four," the Master counted under his breath. "One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four."

_Stop it,_ Jack demanded, _just_ _stop it!_

"The drums, the never-ending drumbeat. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four."

_Stop it!_

His eyes snapped open. Through the front door came Time Agent Jack, handcuffed and being ushered along by four Metro police officers.

_But I was a Time Agent,_ Jack was incredulous._ How did they even arrest me? I could have escaped with my vortex manipulator._

"A friend of mine arranged for a localised time-loop in the Golden Nugget casino. You had no way out."

_But there's something on his, no, my back!_ Jack suddenly saw it, a shape, barely discernible. _Some sort of perception filter's blocking it._

"It's a time beetle," breathed the Master, "also courtesy of my friend."

_Who's this friend of yours?_ Jack probed.

"You'll find out soon enough."

_But what does a time beetle do, exactly?_

"It changes events in your history," the Master explained, "tiny changes, nothing major, but oh so very important."

_So what part of my life did it change?_

"Your name," beamed the Master, "the name you chose for this mission."

_How is that even important?_ Jack was unimpressed. _Mission names are arbitrary. They can't possibly interfere with the mission._

"What if your name," the Master smirked, "was Captain Jack Harkness?"

_I introduced myself,_ Jack slowly understood the Master's plan, _back in the autopsy room. I was recorded. That's how they found me._

"But there's more to the plan, dear Jack, more than you yet realise."

At that very moment, a familiar wheezing sound resonated through the hall, greatly alarming both the policemen and Time Agent Jack.

_The TARDIS!_ Jack recognised the materialising blue box instantly, as did the Master.

A dark-haired man emerged from the box, staggering about in circles. He looked young and lively. His dress sense, however, was neither lively nor young. He was wearing a tweed jacket with elbow patches and a burgundy bowtie.

_That must be the Doctor's new regeneration,_ Jack deduced, _but what's that he's got on his head?_

"It's a fez," the Master whispered amusedly, "fezzes are cool."

The dumbfounded Metro police officers all pointed their guns in the Doctor's direction, but he blithely pranced past them and extended his hand to Time Agent Jack.

"Captain Jack Harkness?" he asked.

"Y- Yes," the Time Agent stammered as the Doctor took hold of his wrist and led him towards the blue box.

"Correct version, that's a relief," the Doctor rambled on as they walked past the policemen into the box. "Look, officers, it's a police box. I'm here to escort this man to the right authorities. Come along, Captain!"

The bewildered officers stepped back as the TARDIS made the wheezing noise and dematerialised in front of their gawking eyes, their guns still aimed at the now empty space which the box had occupied a moment ago. Stealthily coming out from the shadows with his Glock 26, the Master opened fire on them.


	7. The Doctor and the Agent

_Chapter 7_

**The Doctor and the Agent**

"Welcome back, Jack," the Doctor continued to talk as he leapt around the console, firing up the helmic regulator and adjusting the atom accelerator. "Take a moment to get used to it. New TARDIS theme. New me."

"It's bigger," the Time Agent observed, "on the inside. Love the look, by the way, very retro panels."

The Doctor froze in the midst of his energetic caper. "Why did you say that?" he turned and advanced on Jack. "Who are you?"

"You're weird," Jack commented, "but thanks for the rescue. Did the Time Agency send you?"

"I asked if you were Captain Jack Harkness," the Doctor murmured as he held the Time Agent's chin and examined his face closely, "and you said yes. But you aren't."

"That's my codename for this mission," Jack managed to say as the Doctor continued to scrutinise him in a peculiar manner. "Is something wrong?"

"Everything's wrong," the Doctor announced as he let go of Jack's chin and walked back to the console. "The TARDIS detected a temporal anomaly so I decided to investigate. When I got there, I saw two versions of you in close proximity to each other. And I took the wrong you. I'm the Doctor, by the way."

"Can't you just go back," Jack suggested, "get the other me?"

"No," the Doctor paced around the room, frustrated, "by taking you into the TARDIS, I've already made myself part of events. I can't go back now."

"So what was the temporal anomaly you detected?"

"Partial chronic hysteresis. It's an incomplete time loop of one second."

"That explains," Jack inferred, "why my vortex manipulator didn't work when I tried to escape from the police."

"Which means the time loop was designed. Someone wanted you to get arrested. But why?"

"Well, the police took my manipulator. Maybe someone wanted to steal it?"

"Oh please, Jack," the Doctor threw his hands exasperatedly in the air, "anybody with the power to generate a time loop doesn't need your nasty wrist strap. There's something I'm missing. Something obvious."

"Doctor who, exactly?"

"Spock. No, forget that, just the Doctor."

As he continued pacing across the glass floor, circling a befuddled Jack, the TARDIS began to shake violently.

"No, no, no," the Doctor exclaimed, rushing towards the console, profusely pushing the blue stabilisers before staring at the monitor, terrified. "Time is bleeding!"

"What could have caused that?" Jack frowned as he went to stand beside the eccentric man in the tweed jacket.

"You, of course," the Doctor glanced sideways at him, "well, not you, but future you. I need to go find out what happened to future you."

Taking another brief glance at Jack, the Doctor adjusted the atom accelerator again and pulled the wibbly lever. A wheezing noise resonated around the room and the TARDIS stopped shaking.

"We've landed," the Doctor sighed in relief, stealing another glance at Jack.

"Why do you keep looking behind me?" Jack asked curiously. "Is there something behind me?"

"No, there isn't anything behind you," the Doctor dismissed, "at least not something I can see, but don't worry, I'm going to sort this out."

"And what are you a doctor of?"

"Now," the Doctor explained, ignoring Jack's question, "I'm going to pop out to see an old friend. You stay put. We don't want to make this any more complicated than-"

Four knocks sounded.

The Doctor opened the TARDIS door and gingerly poked his head outside. A young man in naval uniform was waiting for him.

"Hello, sailor!" the Doctor chimed.

"Doctor," the man saluted, "I've been expecting you."


	8. Kinda Psychic

_Chapter 8_

**Kinda Psychic**

"You've been expecting me?" the Doctor furrowed his brow. "How did you even recognise me?"

Alonso smiled and showed him a piece of paper encased in a black leather wallet. "Jack left it behind when he disappeared," he explained.

"Psychic paper," the Doctor observed, taking it from the midshipman, "but these aren't your thoughts. They're Jack's!"

"Jack's and someone else's," Alonso pointed out, "it's like they're having a conversation telepathically."

"Not telepathically," the Doctor corrected, "but in the same mind. Two wills sharing one consciousness. My, they don't like each other, do they?"

"The other person," explained Alonso, "Jack calls him Master."

"The Master!" the Doctor snapped the wallet shut and gave it back to Alonso. "I need to know everything that's happened since Zaggit Zagoo."

"You know about Zaggit Zagoo?"

"Of course I do. I gave him your name."

"Oh," Alonso said, slightly disappointed, "I thought he was psychic."

"He is now," the Doctor gestured at the psychic paper. "It takes a lot of willpower to transmit your thoughts through space and time. The Master's influence must have boosted the signal. But let's focus on that night at the bar, Alonso. What happened?"

"Well, we were kissing," Alonso began his story but decided to skip forward when the Doctor cringed. "Anyway, a Graske showed up and teleported Jack away. I think he shot it."

"My mission to Earth," came a voice behind the Doctor, "was to track down that Graske."

"Jack!" the Doctor exclaimed. "I said to stay put. Why doesn't anybody ever listen to me?"

"Hi," Jack waved at Alonso seductively, ignoring the Doctor's protests. "I don't believe we've met."

"No point in standing around here anymore," the Doctor declared conclusively. "Into the TARDIS, both of you, now!"


	9. The Thirteenth Millennium

_Chapter 9_

**The Thirteenth Millennium**

The Praetorian guards were solemnly ascending the hundred marble steps of the Imperial Palace, closely followed by a young man in a black suit who appeared to be quietly talking to himself. Upon reaching the top of the steps, their prefect Aloysius addressed one of the sentries at the gates, who retreated inside and emerged moments later.

"The Emperor," he announced ceremoniously, "will see you now."

The convoy marched onwards through the gates into the gilded throne room where a man wearing a white hooded robe stood waiting patiently for them. The guards parted in their formation to stand on either side of the grand hall, their heads bowed in deference to the white-clad figure. The young man in the black suit continued to walk at a calm pace until he stood face-to-face with the man in white.

"You've done well for yourself, Trickster," the young man remarked. "The New Roman Empire. This must have taken a lot more than a day to build."

"Ten thousand years," replied the Trickster, "since the day I manifested on Earth. You took a shortcut, Master."

"So will he," the Master stated. "Is the psychograft ready?"

The Trickster turned and gestured towards a glass structure in the corner of the room. It housed a large machine made of black metal.

"Dwarf star alloy," the Master approached the machine in awe, "densest material in the universe."

"Complete with chronon loop generator," the Trickster smiled, "the psychograft chamber is entirely cut off from the Time Vortex."

"There will be no escape for the Doctor. I will have his- Argh!"

The Master screamed as he collapsed onto the polished marble floor. _I will kill you if you hurt him_, Jack's piercing roar echoed within his mind.

"The child is still fighting," the Trickster hissed amusedly. "The determination is admirable."

"Too late," the Master shouted as he struggled to stand up, "he is here!"

A familiar wheezing sound drew everybody's attention to the centre of the throne room where a blue police box began to materialise.

"Initiate temporal prison," the Trickster commanded. Prefect Aloysius hurried towards a control panel in the far corner and pulled a lever. The TARDIS door creaked open.

"That's not very nice," the Doctor commented, bouncing animatedly out of the box, "cutting off the power to my TARDIS. Is this Roman hospitality?"

"We meet again, Doctor," the Trickster greeted him.

"Ah," the Doctor wittered on, "back in white, I see. It's not really your colour, Trickster. Come on out, Jack, Alonso. Oh, and good to see you, too, Jack, I mean, Master. Or is it Jack?"

"My dear Doctor," the Master shook his head disapprovingly, "you've regenerated into a babbling fool. Although I rather like that fez."

"My fez," the Doctor said quickly, "it's mine. But what do you have over there? That machine thing has my name written all over it!"

As the Doctor trotted blithely towards the glass structure to examine the psychograft, Jack and Alonso stepped out of the TARDIS. Alonso stood bewildered as Jack winked at the body of his future self and flashed a disarming grin. The Master rolled his eyes.

"Enough of this," he growled, turning briskly to his old Time Lord friend, "I will have your remaining regenerations, Doctor."

"Fine," the Doctor opened the glass door and stepped into the psychograft chamber, "fine, you can have my body. But first, Master, there's something on your back."


	10. Betrayal

_Chapter 10_

**Betrayal**

"It's a time beetle," the Doctor prattled on from inside the psychograft chamber, "one of the Trickster's Brigade, feeds off of potential time energy, but what is it doing on your back? What have you done, Master?"

"You," the Master spun on his heels to face the Trickster, "this was your plan all along. I should have guessed. You wanted more than to escape."

"This universe," the Trickster bared his sharp teeth, "is rich and wonderful. I was trapped in the limbo dimensions for so long. I was nobody, nothing. I had no self. I existed only to bring discord. But now I have taken your thoughts, your ideas, your purpose. Soon you will be nothing, and I will be the Master of all things."

"What have you done?" the Doctor angrily asked again.

The Master ignored the question and, reaching into the pocket of his jacket, extracted a small sleek black rod. "Tissue compression eliminator," he grinned as he pointed the device at the Trickster and activated it.

"No!" came a loud howl which reverberated through the marble hall. Prefect Aloysius had sprung in front of the Trickster and absorbed the full blast. The Doctor shielded his eyes from the bright orange flash of light. When he removed his hand, he could see Jack and Alonso staring petrified at the lifeless body of Aloysius, shrunken to the size of a doll.

"Protect the Emperor!" one of the Praetorian guards shouted as the rest drew their energy guns and fired at the Master.

"Time is bleeding, Doctor," the Trickster taunted as the Master collapsed on the floor, "do you want to be on the wrong side again? She won't remember you. There's no way back."

"I'll take my chances, thank you," the Doctor retorted, "Jack, Alonso, get the other Jack in here."

They obeyed and began dragging the Master's body into the glass structure, where the Doctor was modifying the dwarf star alloy psychograft with his sonic screwdriver. Alonso took care to kick the tissue compression eliminator out of the Master's hand and across the room.

Closing the glass door behind them after they had laid the Master on the floor, Jack and Alonso looked back to see that the throne room was beginning to fill up with ethereal smoke. "Goodbye, Doctor," the Trickster laughed as the universe beyond the psychograft chamber dissolved into an empty whiteness.

_Wake up already!_ Jack yelled in the Master's mind. He took a great gasp of air and sat up, grabbing hold of Alonso's hand.

"You're alive!" Alonso exclaimed with joy and, bending down, hugged him.

"So," Time Agent Jack said bemusedly, "I'm immortal in the future. Cool."

"There is no future," the Doctor spoke crossly, still busy sonicking the machine, "no past, no present. We're trapped here."

"But where's here?" Alonso asked.

"Nowhere," the Master replied, pushing him away, "nowhen. We're outside the Time Vortex."

"And you," the Doctor pointed an accusing finger at him, "owe me some answers."


	11. The Ides of March

_Chapter 11_

**The Ides of March**

Esther Drummond kept driving. The first light of day danced on her face. She had lost the CIA cars tailing them some miles back. They were safe for now. But Jack was bleeding so much. She had to find some sort of doctor. She struggled to think how she could get him medical treatment without going to a hospital. They would classify him Category 1 immediately in this state.

"Jack, are you still with me?" Esther asked, hoping against hope that he would tell her what to do. "Jack, can you hear me?"

Jack lay in the backseat, his eyes unfocused. All he could feel was a dull pain in his abdomen and the dampness of blood on his shirt. He told himself he had to stay alive. There was so much more for him to do. He could not die now. The world needed him. Gwen needed him.

Esther turned off the car radio. News of the collapse of the world economy was not helping her mood in any way. She kept on driving aimlessly, wishing that maybe an answer to all of this would somehow materialise in front of her.

And it did.

There was a bright flash of electric blue light. Esther's foot pushed down on the brake pedal and the car skidded to a stop. Had it not been for the Miracle, she would have died because the shock made her heart stop for some seconds. A man had appeared out of nowhere in front of the car. He smiled. Esther immediately recognised the smiling face as that of Captain Jack Harkness.

She blinked in disbelief. Never mind the fact that he was both dying in the backseat and standing in front of her car, the oddest thing Esther noticed was the fact that he was wearing a black suit and not his World War II jacket. She slowly opened the car door and stepped out, wary of the very familiar and yet very strange man, who still stood there smiling patiently.

"Hello," he approached her, "Esther. Am I with you?"

"Uh," she hesitated, "yeah, you are. How did you-?"

"Let's see me then," he interrupted and pushed past her to open the backseat door. He chuckled when he saw his other self.

Esther could sense that something was wrong. This was not quite the Captain Jack she knew. He was acting out of character. His tone of voice was somewhat menacing. And he was unconsciously tapping a rhythm of four beats on the door.

"Where did you come from?" she asked cautiously. "What's going on, Jack? If you're even Jack, that is."

He hesitated for a second or so, debating whether or not to humour her with an answer. Then Esther saw him reach into his suit's inner pocket and she quickly drew a gun from her waistband, grateful that Allen Shapiro had absent-mindedly left weapons in the car.

What happened next was a blur. There was a bright orange flash of light. Esther could feel a bizarre pressure on her entire body. She fired the gun in desperation, emptying the cartridge. Then she saw his feet. And she cast her eyes upwards. Jack had become gigantic. Or rather, she had become very small, because everything else was gigantic.

"Well done, Esther," came Jack's voice from above, vibrating the air around her, "you're the first person to survive the tissue compression eliminator."

He bent down, picked her up and carried her over to the passenger side of the car, ignoring her punching his thumb. He opened the glove box and dropped her in, closing it swiftly before she could get to her feet. He returned to the backseat.

"Aww," the Master whispered condescendingly, "look at the state of you, Jack. You look like you need a Doctor. But he's not coming for you."

Jack stared at him with questioning eyes, but could not focus for long and passed out from the blood loss. The Master, tutting, pointed the tissue compression eliminator at him.

"This almost feels like suicide," he commented before activating the device.


	12. The Link

_Chapter 12_

**The Link**

"You're a genius," said the Doctor. "You're stone-cold brilliant. You really are."

The Master cracked a smile, then the Doctor kicked him in the shin and he collapsed onto the floor once more.

"You," bellowed the Doctor, "should've known better than to do that!"

"Hey," Jack protested, "enough with the violence. That's my body."

Alonso stood bewildered. "What do you mean, Doctor? What has he done?"

"Jack is a fixed point," the Doctor explained, speaking quickly as he turned back to sonicking the psychograft. "His timeline must always happen the same way. But now he is both dead and immortal simultaneously. Time has to exert itself to sustain the paradox. Its very fabric is compromised. That's why the Trickster could siphon it into the limbo dimensions."

"So what happens in the limbo dimensions?" Jack asked.

"Everything," replied the Doctor, "all at once. All wave functions will collapse. Every possible future and past will occur in a single bubble. It's the perfect world for the Trickster: all the chaos that could ever have happened for him to feed on."

"But you will stop him," chuckled the Master as he slowly stood up. "You have a plan, Doctor. You've been working on it since the moment you saw the psychograft. What is your plan? How are you gonna save the universe this time?"

"There's a link," the Doctor sauntered over to him, "between our bubble of existence and the rest of the universe within the limbo dimensions. And that link," he began sonicking the Master, "is on your back."

"The time beetle?"

"In order to sustain its version of reality where you, as Jack, killed Jack and thus created the paradox, the beetle has to exist across every moment of Jack's life. Now that time has been compressed into limbo, all of those moments are one and that one is connected to our bubble. If I transfer my consciousness into the time beetle here, I will be in both places."

"And then what will you do?"

"Don't know. I haven't gotten to that part yet. It's a thing in progress."

"A thing in progress?"

"Respect the thing!"

"This is never gonna work."

"Oh," the Doctor smiled, "but it will work. And d'you know why? Silence will fall when the question is asked. I know what that means now. Silence will fall because the question won't be asked of me. I'll be a beetle."

"What-?" was all the Master could manage to say before the Doctor pointed his sonic screwdriver at the activation matrix of the psychograft and his viewpoint suddenly shifted.

The Master looked down at this hand. He was holding the sonic screwdriver. He looked up and there were two Jacks staring at him. Immediately, he reached with his other hand to the space above his head and, to his delight, found a fez.

"Fezzes are cool," he remarked.


	13. À La Recherche Du Temps Perdu

_Chapter 13_

**À La Recherche Du Temps Perdu**

_What's this blue carpet under my feet? And what's that black grass? Where am I? Why am I lying down? Why can't I stand up? Am I even wearing a fez at all? What about my bowtie? I can't move either of my arms. Wait, I don't have any arms! This is either a very crazy dream or the worst regeneration ever! No… I remember now._

_That's cool. I've always wanted to be a beetle. Well, a Beatle, but this is close enough. This must be the back of Jack's head I'm staring at. That's weird. Never thought I'd find myself in this position. Wait 'til River hears about this. She's probably heard already. When am I anyway? I can't say. This beetle must be on Jack's back for the entire span of this timeline, maintaining the paradox. If I could just get a better look around… Hmm, how to move my legs?_

_Whoa! I've got to be careful. If I fall off, I'll be stuck in limbo forever. Okay, one leg up, and then the back leg, and another. I could get used to this. It's actually quite fun. Oh, what am I talking about? This is the worst plan ever. There isn't even a plan! Let's just focus on the climbing for now. A bit more and I can see what's in front of him. There!_

_This looks like Cardiff. Who's that woman? She's pointing a gun at Jack. No, no, no, no…_

_That was not cool! Wait, this isn't Cardiff. When did we move? What's that coming towards us? Oh, right, Jack told me about this. Stray javelin._

_So, I'm cycling through his deaths. Of course, the time beetle feeds on temporal changes. This paradox makes every death a source of great power. What's that on the screen? Is that a bomb? I am so not going to enjoy this._

"I'll come back," said Jack to Ianto. "I always do." And then he exploded.

_Phew! I almost lost my grip there. The deaths don't seem to be in any particular order. Maybe I can steer through the timeline to a point of divergence. Now how does the beetle move through its own time again? Ah yes, point and think. But in which direction? Whoa! Let's see now… That's it! Malcassairo in the year 100 trillion. Jack's getting electrocuted._

_Now to move even further back… What's this? Who are these people? All that blood! I don't even want to know. Back, back, back, trampled by horses, back, back, broken bottle, that's awful, back, shot through the heart. Stop, that's Ellis Island, which means… Only one more death to go back to. Now I have a plan. Hello, Daleks._


End file.
